


Uncovering the Inner You

by wynnebat



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mountain Ash, unwilling mentors and their unfortunately talented mentees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 23:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13064508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynnebat/pseuds/wynnebat
Summary: Stiles vs. Deaton vs. mountain ash.





	Uncovering the Inner You

It takes a full month of casually dropping by the animal clinic for Stiles to finally get Deaton to have a conversation with him about magic. Mostly he drops by during Scott’s shifts, since Deaton likes Scott and seems to like Stiles more by association whenever Scott’s around, but sometimes whenever he drives by the clinic and sees Deaton’s shadow in a window, he stops to check in. Sometimes he brings shameless bribes of coffee and baked goods and _hey your sister tells me you have a thing for dark chocolate_. Today, Stiles is empty-handed as he picks the lock to the back door and drops into a chair. He watches Deaton feed the animals staying overnight. The doctor’s back is to him, but Stiles knows full well the man knows he’s here. Stiles isn’t subtle.

Since Deaton is going to kick him out any second now, Stiles gets straight to the point. “So, have you thought about helping me out with learning how to be an emissary? Or getting me in contact with anyone else who might be willing?”

“Not since the last time you asked, which was only two days ago,” Deaton replies, continuing to do his thing and not even bothering to turn around. “And you need to be a druid to become an emissary.”

Stiles has heard it all already. “Pretty sure you could train me to be a druid. I can follow your instructions if you’d just instruct me.”

“Stiles, your determination is admirable, but druids are born, not made. The power already has to be inside you.”

“How do you know it isn’t?” Stiles doesn’t let a single hint of nervousness enter his voice. Using mountain ash feels too natural to him for it to be nothing. Stiles won’t allow it to be nothing.

One of the cats makes a tiny little sound, and Deaton pats its head. Finally, he turns around, and Stiles prepares himself to be told to fuck off. “Stiles, when I said you had a spark, I meant just that. A tiny spark of power that in the greater context of things means very little. You’re adept with mountain ash and have a measure of control over it. That’s unusual, but it’s not rare. The vast majority of humans in the know have learned to manipulate mountain ash.”

 _You_ _’re not special,_ Stiles hears, and grits his teeth. “On their first try?”

“No, but some are better than others. It doesn’t mean they’ve been born with enough power to proceed beyond that first level.”

“But some can,” is what Stiles takes away from that.

Deaton looks like he’s considering using mountain ash himself to chase Stiles away and Stiles braces himself, because while he’s too human for it to create a barrier that prevents him from crossing, it still hurts like hell if someone throws it hard. A lot more than tiny, sand-like grains should. But instead of doing that or leaving and telling Stiles to lock up behind himself, Deaton says, “Come with me.”

Stiles scrambles to his feet. Okay, that’s off-script. That’s really off-script. “Are you saying yes?”

“I’m saying come with me.” Deaton leads him to a small office to the back of the clinic. It’s crammed with file cabinets and bookshelves, none of which contain anything interesting. Stiles has checked. Twice. From one of the drawers of the desk, Deaton takes out a box and hands it to Stiles.

“It’s more mountain ash, isn’t it,” Stiles grumbles, opening it. He’s correct.

“Light it on fire,” Deaton instructs, sitting down behind the desk and powering up an ancient desktop computer. Stiles is actually a little offended by how old it looks. The entire supernatural world really needs to get with the twenty-first century.

Stiles waits for a second. And then he sighs. “You’re not going to offer me a match, huh.”

“No,” Deaton says, simply, as though he’s not trying to irritate Stiles out of his mind.

Stiles is vaguely aware of the fact that Deaton does jobs for various other packs and supernaturals, but for the love of everything holy he can’t figure out why anyone would put up with him willingly. Scott’s an exception, since Scott has a rare ability to put up with almost anyone without it being a hardship.

Stiles sighs at the mountain ash, too, for good measure. He sits cross-legged on the floor and dumps out the offending powder, poking at it a little with his fingers. With his mind, he urges it to catch on fire. The mountain ash very impolitely declines. The second through tenth attempts go the same way. Stiles spreads the ash out in the image of flames, hoping it might encourage the ash to realize what he’s trying to get it to do, but no dice. As he moves it around, not even a speck of ash gets stuck in the crevices of the tiled floor. He can almost feel the way it moves with his hands, bending to that much, at least. Shouldn’t that be enough to prove he can do something? He sounds whiny even in his mind, but Stiles is pretty sure that if it were Scott in his place, Deaton would have already given him some hints.

“ _Incendio_!” Stiles yells, pointing at the ash. He finangles a pencil out from under one of the cabinets and tries again (wooden wand, lead core, good enough). Nothing happens. Deaton doesn’t even make a remark.

In the end, Stiles decides to just wait the mountain ash out. At some point, this shit will decide to work with him. He can’t exactly irritate the mountain ash with his perseverance, but maybe the thought will still count. He scoops it up, throws it up, balances it on his head. He positions it into a circle around himself and pretends to be a werewolf trying to get out. _Catching on fire will really help you keep me in,_ he tells it. He tries coaxing it both aloud and in his head. He finds a scrap of blank paper and tells the mountain ash that it would be depressing if it can’t even burn a bit of paper. Then he makes it in to an airplane and makes a trail of mountain ash behind it like a plane trail in the sky. After getting bored again, he gathers a bit into his hands and starts rubbing it between his palms, trying to get a spark of fire. If he had some flint and steel… Stiles continues doing it absently as his mind wanders. His hands start to feel like they’re going to blister, but that’s something, maybe, his body heat warming the ash into something more than the cold state it’s usually in. Maybe if he continues at it for a century—

Stiles yelps, loud in the silence of the office, and breaks his hands apart.

The flaming clump of mountain ash—it could’ve given him a bit more warning, holy shit—falls down onto the trail of mountain ash and flares higher. It continues down the line before Stiles can think to do anything to stop it. The paper airplane at the end erupts in a boom of ash and smoke. When Stiles opens his eyes, there’s some burned paper on the ground and the ash has innocently settled back into the box. Holy _shit_.

Stiles scrambles to his feet. If Deaton has the gall to complain about the mess…

“Interesting,” Deaton only says, furrowing his brow and facing Stiles. For the first time in a long time, it looks like the man is actually seeing Stiles instead of placating him. “I was wrong. You do have enough power to enter the second level of a spark’s power.”

“I told you so,” Stiles replies, only a little breathless at the shock. “What do I do now?”

“You encourage your own spark to catch fire,” Deaton replies. Before Stiles can open his mouth, he continues with, “By becoming in touch with your inner self. Only once you find your true self can you find the power inside you.”

Oh god, Stiles hates him. Stiles hates him _so much_. Without much hope, he asks, “You’re kidding me, right? Just Doctor Deaton joking around with his second favorite—third favorite?—high schooler. There’s actually a definite thing that I can do, like sacrifice a bunny to the nemeton or ritually dance in the nude on the night of the full moon. Something more helpful than basically the same advice my guidance counselor has given me to help with choosing colleges to apply to.”

“There’s nothing anyone other than yourself can do to help you here,” Deaton says, as infuriatingly cryptic as ever. “I personally found meditation a great help, as well as thinking deeply on the core tenets of my personality and qualities that I once thought were more truer than they really were. But Stiles? I will warn you, not everyone finds themselves happy or satisfied with what they find their spark gives them.”

“That’s not going to scare me off,” Stiles replies. He’ll find a way to use whatever he has. He always has.

“No, of course it wouldn’t.” Deaton gives him an evaluating look. “It won’t replace self-knowledge, but you can also attempt to experiment with areas your magic may manifest in. Often the second level of a spark’s power manifests in an enhanced sense of sight or hearing. Other times it’s a resistance to physical harm, or the ability to breathe underwater, or correctly reading tea leaves. Very rarely, someone develops the power to wield an element or telekinesis. The list of possibilities is longer than I could begin to tell you.”

Which, of course, Deaton is taking as permission to not tell Stiles much at all. But at least it’s something to go on. “Any words of wisdom?”

“Don’t be disappointed if it fails to work. I went through this process in my late twenties, and while I have heard of some younger than me who have accomplished it, there haven’t been many.”

“Thanks for the positivity,” Stiles grumbles, slipping the box of mountain ash into his pocket. But before he leaves, he also forces himself to be sincere and say, “But thanks for the help, too.”

He’d love to be able to burn this particular bridge, but Stiles doesn’t have that luxury.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I'm also on tumblr as @[crownwithoutstones](https://crownwithoutstones.tumblr.com/).


End file.
